Light at the end of the Tunnel
by SuchaCarelessWhisper
Summary: Clarice meets face to face with 'Buffalo Bill' and things don't turn out the way she planned; You never really know who someone is until you get inside of their head; strange relationship between Jame and Clarice, cross dressing, self-hatred and some dark themes. Mentions of Hannibal Lecter
1. Chapter 1

Hello there readers!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own anyone or anything from the making of this, nor do I make any profit from it.

I bet no one was expecting to see this pairing EVER but I am going to be the first (Possibly) to write about Jame Gumb and Clarice and how I think they would have interacted with each other if they had the chance to in the movie. No one will be out of character, on purpose, and I am great at keeping the characters totally in character so there won't be much of a problem there, but the issue I can see happening with this pairing is that they didn't interact much at all in the movie and with Clarice's strong inner and outer femininity she won't be that easy to 'pin' down but with Jame Gumb's mental instability and creepiness I can totally see Clarice getting knocked down a couple good notches. Sooo hopefully my rambling won't scare you off and I really HOPE this pairing makes a decent debut ;)

PS: I am totally in love with Clarice and Doctor Hannibal Lecter as a definite couple but I have read soooo many stories featuring them as the couple and that's the only man I read her with. I have been very curious to see how she would turn out with the insane and awkward Jame Gumb :) This isn't going to be a very long story, just a few chapters or so. Well then, now that that is all said and done, please read and I hope you enjoy!

PSS: This isn't my first SOTL fanfiction story but I haven't created one in over maybe 5 or 7 years so please, if you are going to judge, don't be so harsh. Thank you!

...

She swallows carefully and steps over the scuffed threshold of the doorway, after being invited into the house formerly owned by the late Mrs. Lippmann. The two strangers share a few little words and Mr. Gordon closes the door behind her. All she can hear is the rusted hinges of the said door as it's closed shut. She takes a look over to her right and notices the lovely well kept wooden staircase and returns her attention back onto Mr. Gordon who is currently searching through a pile of miscellaneous papers.

While he's rummaging, he brings up Starling's current case; he asks if they have captured anyone yet. His question raises sudden suspicion in the young FBI in training but she doesn't think that long and hard about it. Clarice gives Mr. Gordon a simple answer in return and she continues to look around her new surroundings, asking him a couple questions herself.

The home has a very beautiful interior as well as exterior but the clutter all over the floor leading up to where Mr. Gordon is standing makes her wonder a bit more about this 'Jack Gordon'. The man is fairly quick to answer the agent and she listens carefully to what he has to say.

Clarice swallows the returned bundle of nerves at the back of her throat a second time and continues to make her way slowly toward Mr. Gordon, watching him pick through random cards he still has in his hands. They continue to get information from each other and while doing so, Clarice catches a glimpse from the corner of her eye of a moth. She licks her chapped lips once and keeps her eyes on the insect long enough to watch it land. Watching the insect, Clarice is quick to realize that the moth is not just any kind of moth, it's a Death's head Hawk moth. Jack Gordon is not who he has made himself out to be at all. She unlocks her weapon at her hip and stares at the man.

The man's voice breaks the silence and he hands out the card hoping she'd take it. Clarice knows all too well who he is now.

"Very good Mr. Gordon, may I use your phone please?" she asks, cocking her head very slightly to the left, licking her lips once again, making sure to keep good eye contact. Jack Gordon's anxiety is more than obvious to Clarice now and she can't believe she has been in front of him this whole time. She's intelligent enough to put together the clues but why now, now that she could possibly take a surprise bullet to the knee?

Anger and nerves begin to boil up quickly in the pit of her stomach as she watches the man let out a nervous chuckle at her question. "Yep, hm, you can use my phone," just the man's reaction alone to her question got her to piece it all together. Her palms are already hot with sweat and she pulls out her pistol and aims it at the unarmed man.

"Freeze!" the young FBI in training demands, not aware of how shaky her hands had become. Jack raises his hands nonchalantly with an amused smile on his lips. The cards fall freely from between his fingers and he turns as he's told but before Clarice could catch his next move, Jack makes a run for it around the corner in the kitchen. Her heart is in a crazy race with her mind at the moment and the only thing she can do is follows in the man's footsteps. She has to try to take this man down on her own. There is no time now to call for back up.

..

After finding Catherine deep in Buffalo Bill's makeshift well, she does her best to reassure the young girl, keeping her weapon very secure in her sweaty grip. Clarice has no idea what she is in for but she has to save this girl and make sure Bill doesn't get the chance to kill again. The young FBI agent can feel the start of a headache building up slowly in the back of her skull and she can feel the tickling sensation of sweat beads roll down the side of her face. It's hot down here and her nerves aren't cooperating with her right now.

Catherine continues to cry and curse and the dog barks. She has to find this man.

Clarice's breathing has become suddenly loud and hard. She fears the worst when she looks at the dirty faces of the closed doors. Cob webs hang very low and on her way further into the basement, she jumps at the sudden contact of the sticky webs winding around her neck.

She can still hear the screams of Catherine and barks of the dog but they are faint now. The room she enters first must be where Buffalo Bill raises his moths; they are beautiful insects but not being born in the hands of a serial killer, although he's very good at keeping them alive and well. Clarice notices a lot of strange and unusual things on her journey but she doesn't linger around too long. The next room she walks into is one she will not soon forget. The smell is downright awful but the sight is much, much worse. Her heart picks up the pace quite quickly and she lowers her pistol and turns to leave the dingy bathroom, where she believes to be the place where Mrs. Lippmann had been placed after being murdered.

A few tears burn at the corners of her eyes but she doesn't let them get too heavy. She can't let him get away. A minute before she exits the bathroom, the lights go out and an unwanted shriek explodes from her mouth. Clarice can only think of the worst but she doesn't grow weak. She moves carefully through the darkness with a rational mind. She needs to keep a good head on her shoulders about this, she can't just go wild and shoot up the place, as much as she really wants to.

She can only feel her surroundings; warm brick wall and low hanging cob webs. Her hands are very sweaty and her breathing is very loud and harder than before. There isn't a part of her that wants to close her mouth just to hear the killer's soft breathing. If she tried, she would most likely not be able to win this fight.

The air grows hotter the further she moves into the basement. She can feel more sweat drip from her chin but she doesn't bother to mess with it; there is some kind of screeching coming from ahead of her and she jerks her head at the contact of something the size of a grown beetle smacking into the side of her face. Clarice thinks about the moths from earlier and continues to move against the wall. She had no clue that these bugs made any kind of noise

Her breathing is very loud at this point now. Who knows if the killer is in this very room with her or not and the thought of that terrifies the hell out of her. She squeezes the handle of her pistol with a shaking hand and stops moving for a second to collect her thoughts. Clarice doesn't stay motionless for long. She turns into another room and nearly trips over what feels like a cardboard box but she catches herself on the edge of a mattress and continues on. She can't feel him, she can't hear him breathe, she can't even feel his presence.

A warm sweat bead falls over her right eye and she uses the back of her hand to wipe it away from her eyebrow; the feeling of it tickled her; with her same old breathing, Clarice keeps her hand tight on the pistol and her legs begin to grow a little tired.

She trips again over something with more weight than a cardboard box and this time falls to the carpet covered ground; something had touched her; her pistol is now gone. Surprisingly the gun didn't go off but being unarmed and defenseless in the pitch darkness with a killer on the loose made her mind go different places. She thought about grabbing her walkie but thinking about it, she recalls how she left it in her car simply because she had no idea that the new owner to Mrs. Lippmann's house was going to be the notorious Buffalo Bill.

She does the only thing she can. "Please Mr. Gumb, I'm unarmed, we can talk about this, the whole thing," she says out loud, swallows and stands up slowly, leaning her back into a wall. Her breathing has become regular again but her fears continue to grow.

She doesn't get a response. The only kind of reaction Clarice gets is a palm running down the back of her hair very softly. The contact causes her to freeze almost immediately. He is here, behind her, brushing his filthy fingers through her hair. She has nothing to say;

Clarice can now hear his soft breathing and it causes her to shut her eyes and remain still. "You have very beautiful hair, of-officer," his deep, gravelly voice gives her awful chills. She can feel her skin become overpowered by goosebumps, even though there is a familiar sweat continuing to run down her, molding her clothes to her body. His voice sounds anxious like before and so does the way his hand moves down her hair.

Clarice swallows loud enough for Gumb to hear and she opens up her eyes. "Free Catherine Mr. Gumb, free her and-Clarice thinks about her choice of words before willingly giving them to him, licking her chapped lips,-and you can have me, please just let her go," the young FBI agent pleads silently, trying her best to keep her composure. The man's fingers stop combing through Clarice's hair and she's left with silence again.

 **..**


	2. Chapter 2

I am quite surprised that I actually made an update this quick. The second chapter was a little struggle to put together but I made it work! So, long story short (so you aren't confused) Jack Crawford and the SWAT team end up at the house of whom they think Buffalo Bill lives at but the funny part to it is that the man who they take into custody is a killer on the lose just like Buffalo Bill and surprisingly they find a dead young woman in his basement that is almost similar to Bill's but not quite. Crawford must sound unintelligent in my story but that's just how I wrote it :P

...

Clarice continues to stare into the darkness of the mad man's lair. He's still in the basement with her and there is some loud rustling around in another room as well as a few curse words and all of a sudden the lights come back to life. The young agent is momentarily blinded by the said lights but the light above her is nothing more than a bulb hanging out of the ceiling. She brings her eyes up towards the ceiling and sees the cobwebs and several bodies of dead insects.

Clarice looks away from the bulb and comes back to reality. She's quiet and crouches down in search of her pistol, the only thing that has kept her intact this long, but the minute she exits the room, she comes into very close contact with the man himself. The young agent stands back up slowly and swallows a knot of nerves, staring into Gumb's blue eyes. He has his head slightly cocked to one side and a grin on his face just like before. Her heart is hammering painfully high in her chest and she can feel her body explode into a cold sweat.

She doesn't dare break eye contact with him but unfortunately, her mentality has been too slow to realize what he had been holding in his hand. The last thing she recognizes is the wicked grin on Gumb's lips and just like a light she's out.

..

Her eyes open to a mere crack and shut again, her mind drifting in and out of consciousness. The constant clicking sound of something familiar causes her mind to wake up and slowly but surely all of her senses return to her. Clarice raises her head up from the hard pillow beneath her and as she does so, she gets a sudden wave of vertigo. She can't recall how she had become so vulnerable and stuck on this bed but what she can eventually see, without blurred lines and hear, she had become terrified again.

The sound of the ticking sewing machine had been the random buzzing in the back of her mind and she can see Jame Gumb sitting there in a lopsided wooden chair, sewing together something she can't quite get a good look at. The almost rancid smell of human blood and cleaning chemicals catch her attention as well.

Her heart jumps high in her chest and she coughs roughly when she gets to her feet. She fears that Catherine is still here, here but no longer alive. Clarice captures the unwanted attention from Jame and he stops sewing and lunges himself at the young agent, pinning her belly faced down on the ground. Her ribs ache and so does her chin which hit the hard floor upon contact. Jame has got his entire weight upon Clarice and she's nearly out of breath.

She's furious, fearful and sad. That same scent of blood isn't fresh but it isn't rancid just yet so somebody must have paid the price while she was out cold. The young agent cannot believe Jack Crawford isn't here or the Swat team; no one is here besides the two of them and that annoying poodle, laying outside the bedroom door. None of this makes any sense to her; Gumb lays against her using one of his hands to brush the back of her head again. Her lungs struggle to take in air and she closes her eyes, recognizing the sweet scent of chloroform once again.

Clarice thinks about fighting back but his weight has her secured to the ground. "I will be as beautiful as you," Gumb says into the open in a soft lingering tone. Clarice's mind escapes her again and she's out.

..

The second time around, Clarice is conscious after hearing a vaguely familiar tune playing on a nearby radio. There is hardness beneath her, unlike before. Musty smells of wet clothes hit her senses and she coughs into her hand, realizing that she's in darkness; Clarice is down in the well and she is scared shit less. She doesn't want to smell what Catherine has smelled, she doesn't want to see what Catherine has seen but Clarice can't change any of it; she can fight back but with all of Gumb's weapons against her flesh and bone, there is no way she is going to come out the winner.

"Shit!" the young agent curses silently to herself and wipes her moist face with the back of her hand. She has nothing to protect herself with, nothing except her sane mind. Clarice had told Gumb that she would trade herself in for Catherine's safety but Gumb had other plans and he's made that obvious. Catherine is gone, Clarice let Gumb kill her, she let him cut her like a rotten piece of meat.

Her stomach growls out of the blue and she comes to realize just how hungry she is. Clarice raises her head up to the top of the well and stares out of it. There is a little bit of light but it's dim and foggy. She has to do something to get Gumb's attention but the faint sound of music surely has Gumb's attention more than what's in the well. The young agent slides down the cold wet siding of the well and sits with her knees against her chest. She's still wearing her same attire but her shoes are missing.

Her back is a bit damp and so are the bottom of her socks. She's scared, more scared than she's ever been. She knows how Catherine had felt being trapped down her for so long; Clarice has only been down here for a few hours but the darkness and damp solid ground beneath her makes her want to cry. She let Buffalo Bill get away with another murder. She has failed everyone, Clarice failed herself.

...


	3. Chapter 3

It's been over 3 hours and she knows that Crawford isn't coming any time soon. Clarice keeps the side of her head against the cold rough wall and holds her knees tightly to her chest, trying to overcome the powerful feeling and great sense of sadness being down in here has caused her. Clarice can feel the exhaution of this evenings' events finally wear on her and she lets her eyes shut for a minute or so before opening them up again. She isn't ready to fall asleep yet; her belly is aching for anything to eat and her throat is painfully dry.

There are no sounds, no faint songs playing. Gumb is making this very hard for Clarice to take her mind off of the awful things that have occurred today. There isn't a thing she can do being trapped down her, maybe just sleep but that's it and right now she isn't wanting that.

..

Precious raises up from her doggy cushion placed by the doorway of Gumb's bedroom and she jumps onto his bed, laying her head down onto the scratchy sheets, watching her owner sew pieces of freshly cut skin onto the 'woman suit' he has already put together. There is silence, a lot of it and Gumb enjoys it most of the time but tonight he's not really feeling it. He breathes in softly through his nose and exhales through the small part in his lips, standing up from his chair and turning to Precious.

He gives her a little smile and blows her a kiss. Gumb then unbuttons the front of his shirt and pulls his arms out of the sleeves, draping the piece of clothing over his chair. The man scratches the skin under his right pectoral muscle and presses play on his cassette player. He previously popped in some David Bowie and the second his voice comes out of the speakers, Gumb can't hid the smile on his lips. Gumb admires Mr. Bowie's voice, he always has. He still loves the way Bowie performed with all that make up and glitter in the 70's; David Bowie had been the first man Gumb has actually seen with makeup.

"You hungry Precious?" he says to the poodle in a childish kind of manner, watching her instantly perk up. He smiles down at his animal companion and picks her up from the bed, bringing her close to his face.

"Daddy's hungry too," he continues to speak to the poodle in a childish tone of voice as he nuzzles his nose in her soft white curly fur. Gumb exits his bedroom and wanders through the hall where he sees the well. His eyes look up at the dim lighting hovering over the well and then walks up to it, peering down into the dark hole. Precious lets out a sudden bark and the sound startles Clarice awake.

The minute her eyes open up, that's when an ache jabs her in the middle of her back. She had fallen asleep against the well; Precious barks again as her and Gumb continue to stare down into the well. Clarice bats her eyes a few times and rubs the exhaustion from them quickly, before standing up on weak legs, looking back up at Gumb. She swallows and the dryness of her throat causes her to expell a violent cough. The young agent wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and continues to look up at Gumb.

She knows what she's about to say, but the way it sounds in her thoughts sound too much like a desperate child. Clarice is in desperate need of some food and water but she doesn't want to give Gumb the satisfaction of having her beg and plead.

So instead she licks her lips and as she watches him walk away she asks; "Why did you kill her?" and it's loud enough for Gumb to hear. He takes a couple steps backwards and stares down at her again, raising his brows in an unhumorous manner. His little poodle barks again; she is patiently waiting for his answer but he doesn't say anything.

Clarice sucks in her bottom lip and asks again, this time more stern. "I needed it's skin," is his much appreciated and hated answer and Clarice cracks a hardly visible smile. Gumb doesn't have any kind of expression on his face when he turns his nose up and leaves. Clarice brings her eyes away from the opening of the well and carefully sits back down onto the damp hard floor. She can't tell if he's remorseful or not.

She thinks a lot about her life and about Mr. Gumb. He must have endured some pretty wild things to have such an insane mindset. She then lays her head against the well again and closes her eyes, wrapping her arms around her aching knees. She wants to know more about the crazy man, so much more.

..

Gumb returns to the basement after fixing himself a poorly made bologna sandwich and canned dog food for Precious. He doesn't bother to look down into the well this time and enters his bedroom, setting Precious in her bed as well as the dog bowl in front of her. He continues to listen to Mr. Bowie while eating his sandwich. He can surely smell the rotting corpse of Catherine but he's not going to risk getting caught by the police now that he has an FBI agent trapped inside his well.

The young agent is saving Gumb's life but he is not going to be this lucky forever. Gumb sits on the edge of his bed and stares up at the disco ball. His eyes drift on over to his camcorder and the tripod in front of him. He killed Catherine because he needed her skin and she didn't seem to admire her skin the way Gumb did; why let it go to waste?

Gumb finishes his sandwich and quickly chews the remains, standing up to return to his sewing machine. He is determined to get his suit finished because he's definitely ready to look beautiful.

...


	4. Chapter 4

**Well hello readers!**

 **I have finally made an update and I think I like this one more than the others. It's a lot shorter than the others I must say, but it's not too bad. I hope you enjoy it and continue to stick with this story!**

...

Jame looks down into the cold darkness of his makeshift well. It's four o'clock in the morning and he doesn't make one sound of exhaustion. He knows he still needs more skin to complete his 'suit' but the one thing that has been on his wild mind is what's down in the well; he wants Clarice's hair. Her hair is like the icing on the cake, the star on top of the christmas tree. With her hair in his possession Jame can finally be happy-maybe.

After retrieving the wooden ladder from close by, Jame is careful when he slides it into the well, after grunting a few times and he grabs his basket containing a bottle of chloroform and a rag, as well as the light attached to it. He isn't sure if the woman below is awake or not but he continues slowly and cautiously down the ladder nonetheless. On his way down, Jame can hear the weak ladder creak and wobble a little bit and he nearly falls off the thing until he quickly catches himself, still holding on to the basket.

Clarice opens her eyes slowly, one after the other and immediately her mind is conscious and she can see Jame coming down after her. The light is very bright, blinding her more and more the closer he gets.

The young FBI agent has a full bladder and an empty stomach, she's not really in the right mood to be fighting off Mr. Gumb. Clarice gives him a loud scream instead but she's cut off when Jame puts the filthy rag to her nose. He doesn't struggle that long with Clarice and once he pulls the rag away, Jame looks down at the unconscious being lying almost lifeless in his arms. He swallows hard and is quick to remove his eyes from her. He got lost in the lovely brunette hair and the innocent face.

 **..**

It's not nearly as much of a struggle to get this one out of the well as it had been with all of his other victims but it's obvious she doesn't weigh that much. Jame grunts and groans on his way up the ladder but not because of the extra weight but because of his fear of falling from the wobbling ladder. Once he's up and over the well, he carries the body over his shoulder and makes his way into his bedroom.

The smell coming from her makes his nose wiggle. He's smelled worse but the smell of wet dog is just something he doesn't like at all. That's why Jame always makes sure to keep Precious well groomed and taken care of, besides the fact that he has a special bond with her. The minute he enters his bedroom, Jame lays the motionless body onto his bed carefully and he turns to look down at Precious who is at his feet.

The strong scent of rotting flesh and blood is making Precious anxious and it's making Jame a little bit too. Jame leans over to pick up Precious and he enters the next room with her, where Catherine's body lay on his stained operating table. Turning on the lights, Jame sets Precious down and ultimately realizes as he looks down at Catherine's body that the young woman he previously had in the well is in his bedroom; he has never brought the women he'd kidnapped into his most private areas, especially knowing they could escape.

With his arms crossed, Jame snarls and leaves the room with a loud; "Shit!" Precious growls and follows him into his bedroom where he sees the same body laying on his sheets. His heart begins to slow down but his curiosity doesn't.

Precious continues to pace the room anxiously but Jame isn't paying attention to her right now. He stares at his new victim. His eyes look her up and down and not just once, three times before he gets in very close, at the edge of the bed, reaching down to brush her soft hair. He gives the locks a sweet gentle brush before returning to his woman suit. Why can't he be like this one? Why can't he have that lovely hair of hers, instead of his that seems to be getting thinner as the days pass by? Those lips, her nose, her eye lashes even.

Jame wants to look like this one. He wants her face, he wants all of her.

 **...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again readers!**

 **So I think the few chapters I already have are pretty good and I am very pleased to know that I have a ton of views on this story, with the little chapters I have so far. Anywho, I am planning on getting more intimate with the characters in this update and way more interaction between Clarice and Jame Gumb. I always thought the movie would have been more interesting if Clarice and Jame had more interaction between the two of them; they are both very great characters and I absolutely love them both and fortunately for the wild imagination of mine, I can make it all come true in story form :)**

 **I hope this update is well done and interesting!**

 **...**

Jame holds his well loved Colt Python in his right hand, his index finger brushing against the trigger and he raises it up and aims it at the unconscious woman on his bed. He doesn't really surprise himself when he swallows and licks his lips more than a few times; he's felt pain and sadness before, he's also experienced a load of remorse for what he had done to those women but the worst of it always hit him when he looked down the well, scanning his eyes wildly around the frightened expressions on the women's faces.

He gets close to the woman and cocks the gun, holding it steady. Jame presses his finger against the trigger but he can't bring himself to shoot her. Precious barks and it shatters the silence and Jame uses his unoccupied hand to wipe away a bead of sweat from his brow. He licks his lips again and he gets a surprise whiff of his own smell; it seems to be hotter than usual down in his basement but he doesn't bother with it. He keeps his hard gaze on the woman. Jame thinks about how his life could be different if he had the young FBI agent's looks, all of them, starting from the top of her head to the very tips of her little toes.

While he looks at the unconscious body on his bed, Jame thinks back on Frederica. She had been his only friend, she was sweet, funny and very caring of Jame but he was broken; he didn't love himself, he loved Frederica because she was strong and beautiful, unlike himself. The night Jame murdered her, tears fell down his face; he wanted to be just like her but the only way he knew how to make that possible was to kill her.

Jame bites his bottom lip and he can feel his expression get tight and mean. "FUCK, FUCK!" he curses violently and swings his bare arms at a few of his female mannequins. He's breathing hard and heavy and before another mannequin falls over, he grabs it by the arm and aims the Colt Python at the head and angrily pulls the trigger. Precious starts barking like a rabid dog at the sound and Jame can only look down at the mess he's made of his mannequin laying on the floor. His body is covered in a hot sweat and his chest is moving carefully now.

Jame furrows his brows, drops his Colt Python and falls to his knees beside his mannequin. The whole head and face is ruined; she no longer looks beautiful. He looks at the many pieces of her lovely face scattered all over the floor and sucks in his bottom lip, trying to hold back a sob.

Precious whimpers and scurries over to Jame. He turns in the poodle's direction and gently pats her on the soft head. The man sniffs away unwanted snot and gets back on his feet again, with his gun in a sweaty hand. The awful stench of rotting flesh captures Jame's attention and he cups his other hand over his nose to block the rancid smell. Precious follows him into the next room where Catherine's body lies on the steel operating table, blood all over as well as anxious moths. He has to get rid of the body as soon as possible before the smell attracts rats and other unwanted disease ridden creatures.

The bullet wound in her right temple has stopped bleeding but the areas where he has skinned her are not even the color of red anymore. With the tip of his gun, Jame pokes the body in the right side and she's solid; the sight and the smell of her make him gag more than a few times and he leaves the room and closes the door so his bedroom can't be contaminated any further. Catherine's body has been left inside the basement for at least 13 hours now and the smell is worsening.

Except for Catherine, Jame has never left any of his dead victims' bodies in the basement for too long and this is why.

 **..**

Clarice's senses are awakened by the unexplainable stench around her. She gazes weakly around her with fuzzy vision and in an attempt to sit up, she is suddenly immobile as she finds her arms bound behind her back with scratchy rope as well as her ankles. She is still able to move her head but everything else is left immobile.

She can't see where Jame is; she looks down at the sewing machine before her as she wiggles uncomfortably in the wooden chair and then down at her feet, where she sees a headless mannequin and remains of what must be the head. Clarice bats her eyes a couple times, licks her chapped lips and listens as her stomach growls and her bladder continue to ache. It's very hot all around her and she can already feel a sweat starting behind her brow.

"Hello?" she calls out and the only response she gets is a silent bark from Jame's poodle in another room. Clarice examines the room carefully with her eyes, turning her head left and then right. What seems to disturb her the most is the awful smell of Catherine's body and the nearly completed 'woman' suit pinned to a sewing dress form near her. She takes in a deep breath of the hot air through her nose and lets it back out of her mouth, directing her eyes back onto the dirty sewing machine.

The young FBI agent struggles against her restraints but they are tight; they carve into her wrists more than anything. "Mr.-Mr. Gumb, my name is Clarice Starling, I am not here to hurt you and I know you don't want to hurt me either," the young agent throws her head back and calls out loud enough for Jame, where ever he is, to hear. Precious barks again from ahead of her beyond the doorway and Clarice can see and hear the poodle make its way into the bedroom.

She barks continuously but not viciously. Clarice looks down at her and her eyes dart away quickly from the poodle up to see 'Buffalo Bill' standing in the doorway. Their eyes meet and the feeling is powerful. Clarice swallows and moves nervously in the chair. Jame wanders into the bedroom with his Colt Python in his right hand. The young FBI agent watches him from the very corner of her eye walk over to the 'woman' suit and touch it where it's unfinished. Precious barks at Clarice one last time before leaving the room.

Clarice licks her chapped lips and looks at Jame. "Let me help you, I promise I won't let them send you to prison Mr. Gumb, you'll be sent somewhere safe," Clarice says to the man carefully, feeling her own body temperature rise. There is a long lasting silence before Clarice parts her lips to speak again but before she can get a word out, Jame is pointing his gun at her temple and she can feel the hardness of the barrell.

She's careful not to close her eyes, she's very careful not to show fear. "I'm not going fucking anywhere!" he spits violently at her and presses the barrel harder into her temple. Clarice's head tilts to the side and her palms begin to sweat as well as her brow. She can hear his ragged, fearful, angry breathing but she still remains pieced together.

"Are you willing to talk to me then Mr. Gumb, I'm sure you have a lot to say and I will listen," Clarice says rather softly with a sudden swallow and slowly but surely the gun is pulled back from her and her entire being is relieved.

 **..**

 **I hope it was a very interesting update and you readers stick around for more to come!**


	6. Chapter 6

Hello there readers,

I haven't updated on this story in a long while and I am feeling a lot better that I finally have because I am actually enjoying how it's turning out. So just to tell you readers ahead of time, this chapter has skipped a couple weeks ahead of where I left off. I honestly couldn't wait to see how these two characters will play out as a not-entirely romantic couple...? That sounds a little odd to me but we will see how it plays out!

I hope you enjoy this update and stick around for more!

 **...**

She has seen him in pastel blue stockings, she's watched him dance in matching heels and she's heard him sing.

Clarice can still smell the rancid flesh of Catherine's bloated body linger near her and it's been quite some time since her body had been removed from the house; maybe that smell will never go away. The young FBI agent has earned herself just a mere sliver of Jame's trust, not much at all but she's now allowed out of the well and into the rooms where Jame does all of his filthy 'work'. The cold bruising handcuffs around Clarice's wrists jingle with every step she takes, her eyes examining closely to everything, mainly focusing on the 'woman' suit Jame is currently working on.

She is very curious; maybe her curiosity in this very inhumane media is wrong and disturbed but she can't keep her eyes away from his macabre 'art'. Jame is careful yet very quick with his fingers, and Clarice watches from behind him sew the pieces together.

The man curses a few times after having the needle poke through one of his fingers but even with a bleeding digit, he still continues working on his art project. Precious barks suddenly and it causes Clarice to jump; the young canine isn't yet used to being around Clarice but Precious is not as yippy and loud as she used to be.

Her eyes leave Jame's frame and she looks down at the anxious poodle. She knows she can't reach out and pet her but she kneels over slowly and gives the young dog a smile. The click clacking of the sewing machine sounds like a broken record in Clarice's mind and when the sound immediately stops for the third time, Jame expells a violent 'FUCK' and Precious growls at the young woman, barks and runs away.

"Fuck this!" Jame spits and stands up tall, kicking the chair over. Clarice watches it slide across the floor and she stands up cautiously.

Her palms are clammy and her fingers are clenched into tight fists. The young woman is anxious and a little scared. Strong willed Clarice Starling is scared but for many, many reasons and she can't escape them.

Jame and Clarice's eyes meet and she holds back a wad of spit at the back of her dry throat. She will not let him see the fear in her. Her eyes aren't that quick to move away from his and she notices the dark blood covering his left hand. Jame looks down at it as well and with a furrow of his brows, he growls at her before fleeing to get something to clean the blood up with. Clarice is free to swallow the spit and she can feel her forehead burn up to dangerous temperature.

The humming of the sewing machine is going off inside her head and the disgusting rotting smell of death is clogging up her nasal passages creating a drumming headache. Her stomach growls suddenly and she can hear the pitter patter of the young poodle's claws as well as the low sound of rubber boots coming her way. Her eyes scan very quickly around the cluttered bedroom but there is no sign of a gun. Of course not, she's not an ignorant woman and Jame Gumb isn't an ignorant man. There is no way he would just leave his colt python laying anywhere near his victim.

He enters the room with Precious beside him at his feet and the look on his face is evil; just a terrifying stare she knows all too well now. Clarice looks down at his hand but there is no bandage; it must not have been that deep of a poke.

The low lit lamp close by, near Jame's desk creates a little bit of a shine on the man's several rings and it captures Clarice's gaze. Jame moves forward, never leaving the young woman's eyes and he pulls out his colt python from his jeans at his hip and he lets the bottom of his button up shirt fall against him. Clarice is unaware that she has been holding her breath the entire time since he's entered the room and finally letting it all out in a hot 'huh' she feels very stupid.

Her fear is slightly showing. Jame gets closer to the young woman and she furrows her brows, feeling a bead of sweat trickle slowly down the side of her face, her fingers and toes twitching. Her breathing has picked up and her chest is moving rather steady like.

The man points his gun at Clarice and she jerks. His expression suddenly goes soft, eye lids a little low but a wicked smirk appears on his lips as he cocks his head. Over the long period of time Clarice has been here, not once has Jame tried to force himself upon her, nor has he looked at her in an intimate kind of way but the way he's looking at her now makes her rethink a lot of things.

..

His fingers run smoothly through her greasy locks of hair and her body gives out subtle shivers. Jame is close, so close. She can smell his dirty breath and his sweaty skin. Her eyes connect with his own, only to save herself from the danger if she doesn't and her brows are tight, lips trembling, fingers aching and palms sweating.

She's becoming terrified of this man. He continues to rake his fingers through her hair, stepping to her left side, tilting his head to get a look at her neck. The young woman takes in a deep breath of the contaminated air and holds it for at least 10 seconds before letting it back out slowly through her nose. Jame takes in a good breath through his nose, letting his eyes fall closed slowly. The last time she's been allowed a nice warm shower has been a week ago. Her hair is greasy and unkempt, and that goes for her clothes too.

While he breathes in her scent, Clarice lets her watery eyes travel over toward the dressed up mannequins. They are quite lovely looking in all of their jewels and head wraps, their fancy blouses and heels. Clarice feels an awful prick in the center of her beating heart; it couldn't be sadness, but she fears it is. Jame Gumb is a very disturbed soul, but like Dr. Hannibal Lecter had told her, he wasn't born a monster, he was made into one.

 **..**

I hope that it was a pretty good update. Stick around for the next one!


	7. Chapter 7

Hello again!

So I have been writing like a crazy person lately and I am so glad I have my old inspiration back again, but I think it's even better than before :) also I am pleased at how well this story is turning out so far and I hope you readers out there are enjoying it as much as I am because I plan to finish it and it's hard for me to finish a story so here I am, sharing another update!

Please enjoy :)

Slight warning: Character is forced into drag clothing.

 **..**

Loud barking fills the air and Clarice can't believe she did what she did. She knows she can't take any of it back and she knows now that she's in for one hell of a fucked up ride, but she remains as well-pieced together as she possibly can. Jame curses more than a few times, he knocks his mannequins, his chair and the miscellaneous stuff sprawled out on top of his desk onto the floor and Clarice flinches at the sound of the items being tossed and kicked around.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Jame raises his voice at her and Clarice is taken back by how she reacts to the sound of it. She jerks her head backwards, her wrists bruising from the cuffs as she takes a step or two back. Precious continues to bark up until Jame shouts at her and the poodle scurries on into another room.

His balls throb in fiery pain from the swift kick he'd previously received from the fucking 'thing' standing before him and he feels almost defeated by 'it' but he doesn't give up just because his balls ache. With his colt python in his right hand, Jame reaches out to Clarice with the opposite and grabs her by the upper arm, applying a heavy amount of pressure with his thick fingers. The woman wiggles a little bit at first, but she gives up just like that. He can see the sweat roll down the side of her face and drop onto her neck.

She's hiding quite a lot of fear from him but he can tell; he can smell it in her bittersweet sweat and see it in the way her chest rises and falls. "You can't do that to me, Bill, you can't, I won't let you!" Clarice decides to speak up and what comes out of her mouth makes her raise her head a little bit higher.

They stare deeply into each other's eyes and it's not in anyway romantic; it's pure evil. She knows she can get through to him, she knows she can get inside his mind and pick him apart just like Doctor Lecter did to her. Clarice is a very, very intelligent woman, especially when she puts her heart and soul into something. Jame Gumb has already told her things that nobody else knows or will ever know and she is glad she's had the chance to know more about this demented criminal but what he wanted her to do minutes before this fight ensued, was just pure terror.

Jame cracks a grin at Clarice and she furrows her sweaty brows, wiggling her sweaty fingers. "You're my puppet, you will do what I tell you to do or else I will be forced to do something really bad," he tells her, pointing his colt python straight at her lower abdomen, stepping closer towards her.

She takes in a deep inhale of the sticky air through her nose and blows a piece of stray hair from her line of vision. "I won't do a damn thing if you don't take these handcuffs off me!" she yells at him, stepping one foot forward, trying to strike at least one cord in the man. Her movements cause the sweat to fall from her face faster and she can feel it tickle her. Jame simply stares at her and squints his electric blue eyes at her, looking her up and down.

He's thinking about it; "If you take these off I promise I won't hurt you again, just please take them off, they are beginning to hurt," the tone of her voice quickly dies down and she turns to the side, showing him the light damage the cuffs have already done to her wrists.

Jame's eyes look at her bruised wrists and take a few cautious steps towards her, even though he's the one with the gun, not her. With his eyes on her, Clarice watches his free hand remove the dirty key from his front pants pocket and he forces her to turn with a rough hand and the young woman just waits until the subtle yet annoying pain subsides. Her breathing is light and she can hear his ragged breathing against her ear. Clarice's eyes fall closed, she knits her brows and is able to lock her fingers together out in front of her.

The barrel of the gun is now pressing dangerously hard into the middle of Clarice's back and she turns back around slowly, staring down at the gun that's pointed into her lower abdomen. There is silence again that binds the two of them together and Jame cocks his gun, causing the young woman's heart to jump and her throat clamp shut very suddenly.

She's lost for words and when their eyes meet again, Jame tilts his head to the left and lets his eyes linger upon the greasy layout of skin across her collarbone. She doesn't dare make a sound, not even execute a little wiggle of her fingers; she stands there, feeling the man's eyes burn right through her, the barrel of the gun at her stomach keeping her from making a foolish mistake.

"You're beautiful," is what spills from his filthy mouth and Clarice can only feel ashamed as goosebumps form across her body. Slowly, Jame's mouth comes into contact with her sweaty skin and she is quick to react, her knee coming up and knocking him hard in between the legs again. The man drops the gun and falls to his knees with his hands groping himself. He's definitely pissed off now. Clarice bends over and grabs the gun, pointing it at Jame's head. The man raises his head and his eyes meet with Clarice's. She doesn't realize that her hands are shaking and that her breathing has picked up quite drastically.

Jame is careful as he stands back to his feet and from out of nowhere, his knuckles come crashing into Clarice's right cheek bone with a loud crack. Her body falls hard to the cold floor and she can feel the damage that has been done. There is a bit of blood across the man's knuckles but he doesn't bother to wipe it away and stares down at Clarice with disgust and anger.

"You fuckin' bitch!" Jame curses viciously at the vulnerable woman while Precious stands nearby, peeking over the side of the open doorway behind Jame. The man's voice echoes and it only makes Clarice shiver and close her eyes momentarily. When their eyes meet again, Clarice's vision is suddenly taken away from her by a wave of darkness.

 **..**

Her eyes open up again slowly and with distorted vision, she turns her head towards the faint light ahead of her and then her eyes shut again, the very soft sound of music playing in the back of her head.

She moans in discomfort behind her closed lips and finds herself opening her eyes again, her vision becoming clearer than before. The music also becomes more recognizable to her ears and she sits up only to realize that she's laying on the disturbed man's bed for the second time that she's been here. It's pretty firm and the blankets are scratchy and rub against parts of her body that she didn't know where visible until now.

Violet sequin bra, matching bottoms, soft baby blue stockings with baby blue 2 inch heels on her aching feet. What the fuck is going on? The last thing Clarice can remember is laying on the ground from being punched by the mad man. Now she's sitting here on his bed, in skimpy clothing that she's seen him wear before. Their costumes are similar besides the color but Jame had only wore blue satin panties and the similar style of stockings that Clarice is currently wearing.

Clarice is scared, she's very scared. She can't understand what is happening and she doesn't really stick around to find out. She can hear him talking, it sounds muffled right now, but she knows he's talking somewhere in a different room, close by.

From behind her, a moth whips right passed her line of vision and she's surprised by it and falls unexpectedly into the man she's becoming terrified of. Clarice should've listened to his voice a little longer and then maybe she wouldn't have literally fallen back into Jame's arms. Her cheek begins to sting and so does the bridge of her nose; her thoughts are a complete mess right now. She doesn't feel like herself anymore.


	8. Chapter 8

Hello Readers!

So this update has skipped a few days and Clarice is finally succumbing to Buffalo Bill's doings. She's still there a little bit but most of her mind is taken from her and now she is at the mercy of him. This update will have some mature themes and more violence than there has been. Anywho, I hope you readers enjoy this update and continue to stick with it :)

..

"Would you fuck me?"

Clarice watches Jame apply beet red lipstick to his wet lips, staring at his naked standing form in front of a long body mirror that he retrieved from a closet in another room. She watches him, gazes at him from his bed, cross legged and sitting as still as humanly possible. Clarice's eyes meet Jame's in the dusty, dirty mirror ahead of her and he pulls the lipstick away from his made-up lips, sliding the cap back on with a soft click.

They don't break eye contact and even if Clarice wanted to, she can't seem to pull her eyes away from Jame; he looks gorgeous in those stockings and heels, even with the little make up he's put on.

He's decided to put on an actual wig this time; it's not real hair but the color is very similar to the last 'wig' he'd put on his head. Jame is ashamed of his receding hairline and he feels like a totally different being when he slides into a pair of heels and stockings. Clarice's hands are very clammy and she digs her untrimmed nails into the blankets beneath her, listening to Jame speak to her again.

"Would you fuck me?" Jame asks her again, tone soft, and his beautiful red lips part into a noticeable slit as he bats his well dressed eyelashes at the equally beautiful woman in the mirror. Clarice swallows a ball of nervous spit collected at the back of her throat and she finds herself breaking eye contact with him. Jame notices this and turns around, using his decorative wrap-around shawl to hide the area down below. Clarice keeps her head down, eyes wandering around in Precious's curly fur, who is sitting on the floor near the bed but she can hear the devil man come near by the click clacking of his heels.

She listens to Jame's heels on the wooden floor and the faint music playing in the background. Her mind is going rampant but she's smart enough not to show that even if her mentality is in a bad, bad place. The sudden aroma radiating from the man, who is now very close, reaches Clarice and she's ultimately drawn to the sweet feminine scent. It can't be that she's drawn to the smell because it's something a woman would wear but she's very drawn to it simply because it's a man wearing the said scent.

It messes with her senses and she works up enough courage to bring her head up and gaze into Jame's lovely decorated eyes. "I...I.." Clarice is completely lost for any kinds of words and ends up stuttering like a fool. Jame's facial features are soft and he gives her a kind smile; it's been a very long time since he's last shown her anything sweet like that.

He leans over so they could both make eye contact once again and he reaches out with one hand to rest his warm palm against her flushed cheek. He's speechless and so is Clarice; her eyelids are heavy suddenly and she parts her lips and ready for what she knows is soon to happen, seeing that their faces are dangerously close. Jame scans his stunning eyes across the young FBI agent's face, taking in a sweat bead here and a bruise there. His dirty thumb runs over her cracked bottom lip and he pulls it down until he can see her bottom teeth.

She watches him take in a deep breath through his nose and exhale back through. His adam's apple moves suddenly as he swallows something in his throat and he closes the gap between them. The kiss is warm and strange; it's a simple peck and Clarice isn't at all alarmed since he's been a criminal almost his entire life.

It doesn't last long and instead of kissing her lips again, Jame removes his hand from her cheek and sets it at the nape of her neck and places a sweet kiss to her neck. Clarice is taken aback at how gentle he's being with her but either way, she lets him continue doing what he's started. He gives her a gentle nudge with the heel of his hand into her head for her to tilt it and doing so gives him more than enough room to run his lips along the visible vein on her neck.

The music in the background causes her mind to fall surprisingly at ease and her body falls backwards onto the bed and he slowly crawls on top of her, his heels falling to the floor with a loud thud that alarms Precious.

The poodle barks a few more times and the sound causes Clarice to realize what's really happening. "N-no...no!" she says softly but her tone grows stronger and so does the strength in her arms as she pushes him, or at least attempts to. Jame growls like some kind of animal and his demeanor is totally something different. He grabs her neck and begins to apply a threatening amount of pressure to the middle of her throat with his heels.

Jame manages to get both of his legs around her waist and he sits down on her hips, pushing harder against her windpipe. Clarice's jagged nails scratch at his hands but her actions are useless.

"Know your fuckin' place!" he curses violently at her, watching her face turn into a light shade of pink. She's gasping for air now and trying to kick her legs but his weight is stronger than her own legs. Clarice is totally helpless.

With one hand, Clarice runs her index and middle finger along the man's frightening face. The soft yet weak touch grabs Jame's attention and pulls it away from the strangling he's been doing. His hands are suddenly removed and he rests them palm faced down on each side of her head. He grips tightly to the blanket beneath their bodies until his knuckles turn white and he tightens his jaw, glaring daggers at the woman below.

He's still very enraged with what she had previously done but he's not ready to hurt her again anytime soon. Clarice's eyes are watering and she can see some of Jame's mascara and light eyeliner run from the sweat.

"You..you are very b-beautiful," she says to him in a raspy whisper, her throat very dry. Their eyes are locked together as one and the man above her leans down to her face and kisses her lips again. The kiss is warm like before but he parts his lips to lick gently at her bottom lip. He's inexperienced but that doesn't matter to Clarice; it's been a very, very long time since she'd last kissed a man and this kiss gets her heart going.

The feminine scent he's sprayed on his moist skin and the feel of his mouth on hers creates some sort of tension between the two of them and she's wiggling beneath him like a worm on a line. Jame opens his eyes and pulls his lips away from hers, looking down at her again.

Maybe that's all he wanted. Clarice lets out an unwanted cough and Jame is careful when he removes his weight from the woman, turning around quickly so she can't see the awful thing between his legs. The young woman licks the strange, bitter taste from her lips and sits herself up cautiously. Precious comes into the room and Jame bends over when she's close enough and he lifts her up into his arms, and strolls on over towards his moth room, not saying another word to the woman on his bed.

Clarice knits her brows and wipes a bead or two of sweat away from her forehead. The room is hot or maybe it's just her own body temperature.

 **..**

Jame removes his wig, wipes off the makeup with a wet rag and slips on a pair of stained blue jeans, keeping his feet and his torso bare. Clarice finishes up her tuna sandwich that her keeper has made for her and runs her warm fingers through her greasy locks of hair, laying down on her side, still keeping her same spot on his bed.

She can hear the sound of his sewing machine go off again but she doesn't care to look. Her eyes fall closed and her mind drifts off to sleep.


End file.
